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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317000">natural disaster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle'>maddielle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>that big picture 'verse [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Future, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Mario Kart, Mild Language, Well-Adjusted Derek Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:27:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddielle/pseuds/maddielle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I leave tomorrow,” he said.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You do,” Derek replied.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I didn’t wanna go without saying goodbye. Y’know, properly.”</i>
</p><p>How everything began.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>that big picture 'verse [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>natural disaster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>right back to the start, during stiles' spring break as a freshman</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Originally, Stiles drove back to Beacon Hills expecting to spend his spring break sleeping in and hanging with his buddies, but that was before Melissa had surprised Scott with a trip to New York, and Danny and Isaac had both elected to stay in Berkeley to catch up on assignments while they had the chance. As a result, Stiles ended up being the only pack member to return home.</p><p>He was less than pleased.</p><p>After arriving on Saturday just in time to see his dad off to his shift at the station, it only took three days of entertaining himself before he gave up and sent off a text.</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [3:44] - im so freakin bored</em>
</p><p>He messed around on his laptop for another forty-five minutes before his phone buzzed.</p><p>
  <em>Derek [4:31] - Hi Stiles. Enjoying your time off?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [4:31] - u are such a slow texter</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [4:32] - and no. my friends suck</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek [4:35] - I went for a run</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek [4:35] - I thought we were friends now :(</em>
</p><p>Stiles chuckled.</p><p>The funny thing was, he did actually consider Derek to be a friend now, especially since leaving Beacon Hills for school after graduation. Having time to settle without the monster of the week interrupting life had been good for the older guy, and Derek had been slowly opening up more and more, sending random messages and funny pictures whenever he felt like it. In fact, he’d been the one to create the group chat that Lydia refused to be a part of on the grounds that their humour was below her, and he’d also hosted an actual party at his apartment during Christmas break.</p><p>Stiles remembered being totally blindsided by that. Derek had baked brownies, for God’s sake.</p><p>Just to be a shit, he pressed the call button next to Derek’s name.</p><p>“I’m so bored,” Stiles announced himself.</p><p><em>“I know,”</em> Derek said. <em>“You already told me that.”</em></p><p>“Saying it once wouldn’t encompass just how bored I am.” Pausing, Stiles listened in on the sounds of sizzling and running water in the background. “Are you cooking?”</p><p><em>“Omelettes and bacon,”</em> Derek confirmed.</p><p>“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”</p><p>
  <em>“I can cook. What do you think I’ve been eating all these years?”</em>
</p><p>Stiles shrugged, reaching to wipe a suspicious smudge from his laptop screen. “I don’t know. I figured you just took shots of protein powder or something.”</p><p>
  <em>“Right.”</em>
</p><p>“Do you still have Mario Kart?”</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p>“I can’t find mine. Can I come over and eat your food and play video games?”</p><p>Derek sighed, his breath crackling over the line. <em>“Yes, okay.”</em></p><p>“Awesome.”</p><p>Shoving his computer aside, Stiles changed into a fresh pair of track pants and a hoodie before fishing for his car keys in his backpack and heading out.</p><p>Having visited a few times in the past two years, Stiles liked Derek’s apartment. It was pretty spacious for a two-bedroom rental, with carefully chosen furniture and décor keeping the vibe cozy and welcoming, and Derek had turned into a bit of a homemaker once he had the time and opportunity. The linen shelf in the bathroom always had fresh towels folded on it, and there was never a shortage of enough snacks and drinks to keep hungry werewolves and humans satisfied.</p><p>Stiles’ favourite spot to hang out in was the corner of the sectional, which was exactly where he parked himself when he arrived that afternoon.</p><p>“Where’s your dad?” Derek asked, sitting on the couch and placing two plates of vegetable-laden omelettes on the coffee table.</p><p>“Working,” Stiles grumbled. “Which is for the best, honestly. Whenever he’s home, he gets on my case about doing homework.”</p><p>Derek loaded his fork with a sizeable bite. After chewing and swallowing, he said, “Don’t you have papers to write?”</p><p>“Hello, computer science major,” Stiles replied, pointing to himself. “I don’t have papers, I have assignments. Which I finished on the weekend.” He shook his head, stabbing at his food. “I guess I could’ve stayed on campus, but I wanted to actually get some sleep.”</p><p>“Partying hard?” Derek guessed.</p><p>“Not even. The people across the hall in my dorm like to stay up until four watching reruns of Friends while getting high, and they always blast the volume. Drives me nuts.”</p><p>Derek made a sympathetic sound and twisted around to reach for the TV remote. “Well, I don’t have Friends, but I do have a box set of Seinfeld my neighbour left behind when she moved out.”</p><p>“Party,” Stiles said through a mouthful egg and spinach. “Put it on.”</p><p>They snickered their way through four episodes of Jerry and George getting into various shenanigans before Derek cleared away their plates and Stiles set up two controllers for Mario Kart. They then battled it out on the race track long into the evening until, sometime around eight, Stiles had to hit pause to answer his phone.</p><p>“Yup?”</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, bud. Are you coming home for dinner?”</em>
</p><p>Stiles winced. “Shit. Sorry, Dad. I’m at Derek’s, must have lost track of time. Give me fifteen, okay? There’s curry defrosting in the fridge.”</p><p>After hanging up, he shot Derek an apologetic glance while standing. “Sorry to leave you hanging.”</p><p>“No worries,” Derek told him. “I’m around all week, if you get bored again.”</p><p>“Totally. Alright. Later, man.”</p><p>“See you.”</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the spring break passed in a similar fashion. Whenever John didn’t work, Stiles made efforts to be at home and spend time with his dad. Otherwise, he was hopping in his car to drive across town and waste time at Derek’s place. The werewolf didn’t seem to care much about having Stiles around, and Stiles was very much enjoying the fruits of Derek’s labours in the kitchen, so things were working out just great.</p><p>“You’re like the supernatural Martha Stewart,” Stiles commented on Friday afternoon, the day before he’d decided to head back to school. He sat at the kitchen counter on a barstool. A few steps away, Derek laughed genuinely as he continued to slice a red onion, the rich sound warming Stiles from the inside.</p><p>“No, seriously,” Stiles continued, grinning. “Werewolf or not, I feel like a lot of dudes your age would be living on ramen.”</p><p>“You can thank my mother for that,” Derek said, picking up a bell pepper and inserting a knife into the top.</p><p>“She taught you?”</p><p>“She taught us a lot.” An absent smile graced Derek’s face while he worked. “We weren’t allowed to take anything for granted. She had us cooking, doing laundry, learning how to do repairs. You name it.”</p><p>“Like, carpentry and stuff?” Stiles asked, thinking about the remains of the Hale property.</p><p>Derek nodded. “A little bit. I liked to help my dad maintain the cars.”</p><p>Stiles stewed over this latest information as he drummed his fingers on the kitchen table and watched Derek deftly chop the pepper. Feeling comfortable and willing to share, he said, “I used to like helping my mom in the garden. Growing flowers and vegetables made her so happy…” He trailed off, memories of sunny afternoons and ripe tomatoes flooding his mind. “I don’t know how much I’d remember now, though.”</p><p>“You were young.”</p><p>“We both were.”</p><p>Derek paused and raised his eyes to meet Stiles’. There was no defensiveness in his gaze, just quiet understanding, and, in that moment, Stiles was unable to keep himself from objectively realizing how effortlessly beautiful Derek was when content. Aware that the other man could almost definitely hear his heartbeat, he blushed and looked to the side, and Derek continued chopping, letting the moment pass by.</p><p>“I still need to kick your ass on Rainbow Road,” Stiles said, minutes later when he’d built up the courage to speak again.</p><p>Derek huffed from where he was currently stacking containers of prepared vegetables in his fridge for later use. “You know you can’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s science. You don’t have the reflexes for it.”</p><p>“I don’t have the reflexes for it?” Stiles asked, incredulous. “It’s <em>science?</em> There is nothing scientifically explainable about any of you people. Your eyebrows fucking disappear!”</p><p>Standing, Derek gave him a challenging stare and nodded towards the living room. “Alright. Get it set up, if you think you’re such a hotshot.”</p><p>“You’re gonna wish you never said that,” Stiles assured him. “Mark my words.”</p><p>“I’ve been warned.”</p><p>Over the course of a couple of hours, it took about fifteen tries, but he eventually did beat Derek on Rainbow Road, squeezing past him into first place by the seat of his pants with a triumphant holler. Derek let him have his moment, watching Stiles dance in place with a raised eyebrow while the next race loaded.</p><p>“Werewolf reflexes, my ass,” Stiles cackled, leaning over to punch Derek’s shoulder and ribs.</p><p>“How many times have I saved your life in the past three years?” Derek asked him as he blocked Stiles’ attacks, trying and failing to grab onto Stiles’ flailing wrists</p><p>“Unimportant. I won on Rainbow Road, so I am now the stronger man.”</p><p>"You won once."</p><p>"Yeah, and I'll do it again."</p><p>After a few seconds of half-hearted tussling, Derek finally managed to get ahold of Stiles’ fists, capturing them with steady hands. Knowing he didn’t literally have the strength of a werewolf, Stiles gave up the fight with a huff, but he didn’t pull his arms back immediately. Instead, he paused in surprise at the sudden warmth of Derek’s skin on his, in that moment randomly unable to recall the last time anyone had touched him intimately, save for one girl he’d made out with at a frat party before Christmas.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said quickly, pulling his hands away and looking back to the TV. He expected some kind of reprimand or comment, but neither occurred. Derek himself didn’t move for a moment before sighing almost inaudibly and leaning back in his seat.</p><p>“It’s okay. Another round?”</p><p>Stiles just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.</p><p>He stuck out another handful of races before giving up, standing and mumbling some excuse about his dad and dinner and his last night in Beacon Hills. Derek let him go without a fight, just lifting a hand in farewell and wishing him well at school. Stiles dipped his chin in thanks and made his exit, feeling a dog running with its tail between its legs.</p><p>At home, after throwing together a last meal of pasta and sauce, John glanced at his son across the kitchen table with his brow furrowed.</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>“Yeah. Why?”</p><p>“You’ve been quiet.”</p><p>Stiles lifted a shoulder. “Thinking about going back to school, I guess. Got some midterms coming up. That's all.”</p><p>Knowing when an issue didn’t need pushing, John just hummed and turned his attention back to his meal.</p><p>Despite Stiles’ best efforts to maintain normalcy, he continued feeling off all through washing the dishes and brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed until he finally found himself lying on his back under his duvet, eyes wide and peeled to the ceiling while errant thoughts bounced around in his skull.</p><p>“This is stupid,” he eventually muttered, flopping onto his side and reaching for his phone charging on the bedside table. Squinting against the bright light, he typed.</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [11:02] - sorry about earlier</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [11:02] - just feeling out of it. stressed about school</em>
</p><p>As he waited for a response, he bit his lip and hoped Derek would buy the excuse. It wasn’t a complete lie; he did have midterms approaching, even if they were in his easiest classes.</p><p>
  <em>Derek [11:12] - All good</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek [11:13] - Get some rest</em>
</p><p>Unhappy with the clear dismissal but glad that Derek seemed unbothered, Stiles tapped out a response before setting his phone facedown on the table and rolling over.</p><p>
  <em>Stiles [11:13] - will do. night</em>
</p><p>Years ago, Stiles had realized and quickly become comfortable with his bisexuality around the age of fifteen, and he was no stranger to objectively noticing how attractive his friends were. The girls were all gorgeous in their own ways, and the guys weren't hard on the eyes, but that didn't mean that any of them had him feeling as flustered or off-kilter as Derek had that day. Derek was attractive, Stiles was very aware, but any crush he'd harboured in high school had kind of taken a back seat to battling various evil forces and trying to survive to graduation.</p><p>He'd never considered the possibility that Derek might be interested back. It seemed almost absurd.</p><p>Frustratingly, rest still evaded him even as he mashed his face into his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut against the world. He couldn’t settle his mind or his body, fingers tapping anxiously against the mattress, as he ran through the events of the afternoon. In his mind’s eye, he saw Derek chopping vegetables with practiced ease, swearing as Stiles knocked his virtual car off the track, protesting half-heartedly as he pounced after his victory.</p><p>He felt the phantom brush of Derek’s skin on his hands. Heard the sigh of disappointment as they separated again after that awkward moment on the couch.</p><p>Stiles’ eyes flew open.</p><p>Hold on.</p><p>Sure, Derek may have mellowed out, but Stiles still knew him at his core. Said grumpy werewolf was more than capable of making his boundaries known; Stiles had seem him in action countless times, shutting down men and women alike with nothing but the severe raise of an eyebrow and a deadpan stare.</p><p>Sigh of <em>disappointment.</em> Not frustration, or contempt, or even just pity. And Stiles had pulled his hands away first.</p><p>In a flash, he rolled over again and turned on his phone, heart pounding as he skimmed an unread text.</p><p>
  <em>Derek [11:25] - Drive safe tmrw. It’s supposed to snow.</em>
</p><p>Stiles knew. He just knew, then and there.</p><p>In one movement, he threw back the duvet and jumped to his feet, shoved his sneakers on and palmed his car keys before darting out of his room, down the stairs, and out the front door. In the car, before his thoughts could catch up with him, he started the engine and backed down the drive of his dad’s house, leaning out of the open window to steer.</p><p>Adrenaline had his leg bouncing as he drove through the quiet streets of Beacon Hills, so familiar now with the drive to Derek’s building. Out front, he pulled up to the curb and just sat for a moment in the driver’s seat, trying in vain to get his heart to stop galloping so he could at least avoid passing out before continuing on.</p><p>After a few minutes, with a final glance at himself in the rear-view mirror, Stiles pushed open the Jeep’s door and rounded the back of his car.</p><p>Derek already stood at the open door, a hand still on the doorknob. He had a t-shirt on over cotton sleep pants, and Stiles’ mouth promptly dried out completely.</p><p>“I heard the engine,” Derek called from the entrance. “And your heart. Is everything okay?”</p><p>Stiles stepped onto the sidewalk, gesturing with one hand. “Yeah. No emergency. I just…”</p><p>In the doorframe, Derek raised an eyebrow in a movement so familiar to Stiles that he almost wanted to laugh hysterically. Instead, he swallowed and wet his lips.</p><p>“I leave tomorrow,” he said.</p><p>“You do,” Derek replied.</p><p>“I didn’t wanna go without saying goodbye. Y’know, properly.”</p><p>Warily, Derek stepped outside in bare feet, letting the door gently fall shut behind him. “Yeah, alright,” he said, probably thinking Stiles’ had lost his mind. Why else would he had driven over at eleven-thirty at night without even a coat or jacket to cover his bare arms.</p><p>“Can I hug you?” Stiles asked. He tried his best to keep desperation from his tone but wasn’t so sure he succeeded.</p><p>“Of course.” Derek opened his palms in an offering gesture. “Get over here.”</p><p>Only almost tripping once, Stiles hurried forwards and up the front steps of the building and into Derek’s hold. They clapped each other on the back, squeezing tightly for a moment, two figures alone in the dark with only a dim streetlamp about a half a block away for company.</p><p>Stiles remained acutely aware as usual time limit for a hug between good friends approached and then passed. Derek was so solid under his skin, a pillar of warmth that soothed the anxiousness that had been plaguing him all evening. Feeling brave, Stiles shifted his hands and turned his head into Derek’s neck, just a little, and Derek responded almost instantly by pressing his entire face into Stiles’ hair.</p><p>Pulling back was a gradual process that left them standing toe to toe, arms clasping elbows. It took all of Stiles’ courage to raise his eyes to Derek’s and all of his resolve to keep his knees from buckling under the weight of naked emotion he found there. Derek seemed to be waiting for some cue, and, when Stiles didn’t step away, he deliberately brushed his nose alongside Stiles’ and paused there, a question clear in his actions.</p><p>Stiles felt like he’d known his answer forever.</p><p>“Yes,” he whispered. "Please, yes."</p><p>Cheeks lifting in a relieved smile, Derek then leaned forwards the rest of the way to kiss him.</p><p>It was such a gentle gesture, light and cautious for all of the years of growing friendship and quiet interest it punctuated. Entire universe narrowed down to the warm pressure against his mouth, Stiles pressed back, unable to keep his lower lip from trembling just a little with the cold and his own nerves. Derek must have noticed, pulling away just to readjust and kiss Stiles again on his bottom lip, touching carefully with his tongue.</p><p>After, Stiles sucked a breath in through his nose as his fingers curled against Derek’s chest. He hadn’t even noticed resting them there, but the steady beat he felt underneath grounded him enough to speak.</p><p>“How long?” he asked quietly, against Derek’s jaw. Not accusing, just curious.</p><p>“A long time,” Derek murmured. He dropped a kiss to Stiles’ temple and then nudged him back just enough to look him in the eye. “Okay?”</p><p>“Totally okay.” Stiles smiled helplessly. “I think… for me, too. A long time, I mean.”</p><p>When Derek pulled him back in for another hug, Stiles didn’t hesitate this time to throw himself into it, locking his arms behind Derek’s neck and threading a hand into his hair, marvelling at the softness against his palm for the first time.</p><p>Derek had his nose tucked against Stiles’ ear and was taking slow, even breaths, as if Stiles’ scent was the only thing he'd be needing for the rest of his life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>that's all i have planned for this universe at the moment</p><p>other stuff currently in the works :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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